


Searching for a Fire Like Yours

by Kismetcanbiteme



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Elements from Dragon Rider's of Pern, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kismetcanbiteme/pseuds/Kismetcanbiteme
Summary: She finally made it up to the cliff’s edge where her wing waited. Even after three years as a rider the sight of six fully grown dragons still took Lexa’s breath away. They stood almost as tall as houses and, in some cases, as long as six horses. Glittering scales shone bright in the sun.Hedath was easily the most beautiful as the brightest and largest dragon, with silver scales and  iridescent horns spiraling on either side of his tufted ears, but maybe she’s biased.A Clexa Dragon Rider AUOk so this is my second try writing this story. Hopefully I can make it work for me this time. It was originally under Inhale Air Exhale Fire, but I've revamped it a ton
Relationships: Anya/Raven Reyes, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	Searching for a Fire Like Yours

The wagon rumbled and clattered over the steep cobblestone path jostling the cargo inside. Even as the dozen or so girls huddled in close, it didn’t stop them from shivering in the bitter cold. It could be how they were dressed, each girl in strips of cloth that covered the essentials and not much else. Rags don’t make for great insulation against the Azgeda winter. Even the fact that the wagon was closed in didn’t stop the chill. It only made them blind as to where they were being taken. Some of the girls around her had started crying, the youngest for their mothers. 

Among them, Clarke glowered silently. By her estimation she had only been taken from her home about a week ago

.

_ The book was dull, there was no getting around it. It was dull, and Clarke was distracted. For maybe the fifth time in thirty minutes, she glanced out the round window of the library turret.  _

_ Nothing. Not a bird stirred, and it had been that way since six o’clock when she had risen. It was nearly eleven now and still no sign of her father. Griffin estate’s library overlooked the path towards the nearest village, a perfect vantage point for Clarke to keep watch for his return. And she had. For three days now. Three days longer then he said he’d be gone.  _

_ Jakob Griffin had been called away as a mediator of sorts between the countries of Trishana and Azgeda. The house of Griffin had always been regarded as one of the wisest in Skiakru and they were called upon as diplomats frequently. Jakob in particular was well liked and was known for settling disputes fairly and calmly. _

_ This was the longest he had ever taken, and his absence settled on the whole household like a frost. Her mother grew more pale and anxious, retiring to her chambers earlier and earlier. Even Clarke’s six-year-old brother had gotten quiet, sulking in the stone halls. His nanny, Emma, hadn’t been so well rested since before he could walk. And Clarke? Clarke just wished her father would come home. _

_ A great clatter of hooves outside startled her from her daydreaming. Clarke’s blonde hair whipped past her face as she threw the windows open. The sun blazed over the snow making it look even brighter than usual, but If she squinted, she could make out a horse and carriage.  _

_ Her heart leapt as she tossed her book down, picked up her skirts, and raced down the stairs. Before she could make it to the door, she was jerked back by a tug on her arm as she flew past the study. Her mother had a death grip on her as she panted. _

_ “Wait wait, don’t go out just yet- it... it’s not safe” she looked paler than ever, but Clarke rolled her eyes. _

_ “He’s been gone for a week and a half. We have to meet him at the gates!”, she tugged her mother along with her. _

_ “NO Clarke, please wait!” _

_ “David! Father’s home!” _

_ Her brother came barreling out the kitchen, his mop of straw colored hair a blur as he beat them to the front door, but when the young boy wrenched it open, the hulking figure backlit by the sun was most emphatically  _ not  _ Jakob Griffin.  _

_ A huge man stood dwarfing the young boy looking every inch a savage creature. Dark eyes surrounded by white scars and a rough beard made him appear menacing and out of place in the old oak doorway of Griffin Manor. Her mother darted forward to bring David behind her, Clarke frozen at the bottom of the stairs. _

_ “Clarke, take your brother upstairs.” _

_ “Who is that?” _

_ “Clarke, do as I say. Now.” _

_ Begrudgingly, Clarke crept back up the stairs, David clinging to her sky-blue skirts and whining the whole way “but- but where’s father? You said he was here but that’s not- he was supposed to be back…” his blue eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip trembled “Clarke? Who’s that man talking to Mama?” _

_ “Quiet, David” she hissed hurrying down the hall. _

_ She crept into her bedroom with David at her tail over to the window. In quick practiced motions, she gathered and tied up her skirts and made her way down the window trellis, leather boots landing silently at the bottom, her brother close behind.  _

_ From the back of the house they couldn’t see much, but as they crept around the side, the dread that had been stirring in her gut froze to ice. Not one horse and carriage, but six with a whole crowd of men (just as rough looking as the first) standing outside the front of Griffin estate. Grizzly men with weapons and… torches. _

_ From there things happened quickly she heard loud voices shouting and saw her mother ripped from the doorway and thrown to the ground with a scream. Her violet gown bright against the snow.  _

_ David tried to run forward, but Clarke grabbed him, pulled him against her, and slapped a hand over his mouth to smother his cries. Her mother sobbed where she was crumpled on the ground as the men descended on the house.  _

_ Emma, David's nanny, was chased from the manor and huddled with her mother in the snow outside. Portraits were dragged out; silver and jewels were tossed from the windows to the men scavenging below. The leader screamed in a language Clarke couldn’t understand as the men ransacked to manor. Clarke recognized her own jewelry box fall from the second floor to the pavement with a smash. _

_ The leader apparently decided he’d had enough and yanked her mother up by her intricate updo “Where IS SHE?” he roared over the chaos. _

_ “I- I don’t know, I told her to go upstairs.” Abby gasped clawing at the hand in her scalp, tears leaking from her eyes freely. They were looking for  _ her _ , Clarke realized. _

_ “Well you’d better figure it out quick, before I decide you’d be a pretty substitute, then what would your  _ precious heir  _ do hmmmm?” he sneered in her face throwing her back down “Or,” he dropped Abby and instead lifted Emma up by her throat. The old woman let out a shriek that tapered off into breathless gurgles, “I might just get angry that I’m not given what I’m OWED and lose my temper-” his meaty hand tightened on the woman’s neck as the other men jeered and howled. Clarke had seen enough. _

_ “WAIT” Clarke darted out from the side of the house. She came to a stop in front of the mob and raised her chin defiantly “You’re looking for me, Right? What do you want with me?” _

_ The man dropped Emma to the ground and chuckled darkly. “Indeed, we are, girl” he turned to her mother who was whimpering on the ground. “Consider your debt paid. Your silence is now assured” he then turned to Emma wheezing in the snow “Hers however is not.”  _

_ With a movement as quick as a breath he slit her throat with his short dagger. David shrieked for his nanny from his place on the side of the house. One of the men who had been ransacking the estate struck David on the back of the head with the pommel of his sword and lifted him like a ragdoll, depositing him none too gently in Abby’s lap. She clutched the boy to her chest as she wept.  _

_ Clarke felt rough hands dragging her towards the carriages and her eyes darted around in confusion. They dragged her about five steps before she started to struggle violently kicking and scratching. She managed to draw blood from the eyes of one of her captors and possibly break the wrist of the other before they outnumbered her. _

_ As she was hauled past her, Clarke looked at Abby with wide eyes “Mother- Mother What did you DO?” _

_ “I’m so sorry” she sobbed “I’m so so sorry, but there was no choice.” With that she buried her face in David’s curls refusing to look at the scene playing out before her. _

_ The man turned and shoved Clarke into the nearest cart tying her securely to its side. As it started to drive away, she witnessed the men setting Griffin Manor ablaze, fire glinting off the white snow, the bloody corpse of her childhood nanny, and her mother cradling her unconscious brother in the snow. It was the last image of her home she got before the man in the cart with her got tired of her sobs and delivered a swift blow to the back of her head shrouding her world in darkness _

_ She eventually woke with bound hands and feet. One of the men tossed her a piece of hard bread and she was given a cup of water to lift clumsily to her mouth. So, they weren’t interested in killing her then.  _

_ They traveled on for two days, maybe more, before stopping at a small cabin in the woods. One of her captors got out and knocked a pattern on the door to the cabin. He was let in quickly and the door shut behind him. A checkpoint of sorts, maybe? After a bit Clarke was lifted from the cart and brought inside. It was dark and before she had time to appreciate the warmth of the cabin or for her eyes to adjust, she was knocked unconscious once more. _

_ By the time she woke again, dressed in what could barely be considered clothing it was night fall. Chains bound her wrists and ankles. She was shoved outside barefoot in the snow. Dirty and freezing cold, she was hauled to her feet, forced into a line with about twenty girls ranging in age. Clarke and a few other girls seemed to be the oldest at nineteen years the rest of them ranging as young as twelve, all dressed in the same cloth covering their breasts and belt with two rectangular pieces of fabric hanging down to give off some semblance of modesty. In short, Clarke felt utterly exposed. _

_ A middle-aged man covered in furs and leathers with a whip at his side walked and inspected each of them, occasionally opening their mouths to look at their teeth. (When he tried this on Clarke, he nearly lost a finger “Feisty” he chuckled nastily.) As he passed each girl, he would indicate a yes or no. The “yeses” got a silver collar snapped tight around their throat attached to a chain. The “no’s” were shoved into a group on their own.  _

_ The dozen with collars (including Clarke) were directed to yet another transport. This time when they were pushed into one cart together, she managed to look at the markings on the sides. She couldn’t read the inscription written but she knew damn well whose they were. Azgeda. _

Clarke didn’t think the pounding of her heart could get any louder, but when they suddenly jerked to a stop, she was proven wrong. Noises had started to permeate the cart, slowly eclipsing the bawling of the youngest girls. 

  
They had been traveling for hours upon hours and she could only guess they were now in Azgeda territory. When the doors to the cart were opened, she was nearly blinded by the dawning sunlight and overwhelmed by sounds and sights and noises. They had stopped in what was quite obviously a busy market and were now being roughly led onto a platform in the center. Clarke stopped breathing when she realized what the sign above the platform read. What their  _ sale label _ now was.  _ Bed Warmers _ .

**Author's Note:**

> So here's my second attempt at this one. Yes, it is a take on the Dragon Riders of Pern series. However I'm changing so much of the dragon lore it doesn't really make sense to tag it as such. Anne Mccafrey was always a dick about fanfic anyway. Enjoy! BTW I'm painfully shy so while I love your comments and questions I may not always respond.


End file.
